Resurrection
by AquarianDegel
Summary: Sequel to Hidden Saint; Book 3 in the series. Anya, Camus, Milo, and Hyoga venture to a far-off city in the tradition of their ancestors, seeking a hidden secret. A dark power sleeps in the depths of the land, waiting for them. Who-or what-is this predator, and what is this prophecy the townfolk speak of?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: City**

"Magnificent," Anya breathed as she viewed the ancient city. She, Milo, Hyoga, and Camus stood on a snowy plateau overlooking the great expanse that was Bluegaard, city of ice. It hadn't always been that way, Camus had told her—but the lack of sun had thrown the ancient place into a miniature ice age. A giant pillar of flanged ice stood in the center of the city, testament to Aquarius Dègel's sacrifice for Bluegaard; it was said that he had created the Freezing Coffin to save the world from Poseidon's angry tidal wave.

"ACHOO!" Anya turned to see Milo rubbing his nose; the Scorpio Saint looked miserable, even in his heavy cloak, and was periodically sneezing. Of the four of them, he was the only Saint unaccustomed to ice and cold, but he trudged on for the sake of his best friend. "Camus, I swear to Athena that you—and the rest of you—are completely, utterly nuts for preferring this place to Sanctuary." He shivered as a breeze kicked up; Camus glanced at him with an expressionless mask.

"It is beautiful country, but you must learn to appreciate the individuality of each crystal of ice. To everyone else, this land looks the same everywhere. To Ice Saints, it is a myriad of color and texture."

"I'll leave the appreciation to you. Let's get someplace warmer, please!" Anya hefted her pack and began walking towards the city; all four Saints were armored in their Cloths, keeping a wary eye on the surrounds.

As they entered the streets of Bluegaard, Hyoga frowned. "The Blue Warriors should have prevented us from entering. Or, at the least, they should have shown themselves to us. Where are they?"

"I think that is something we will have to answer for ourselves," Camus answered, looking over his shoulder at his former pupil. "It is possible that there are no warriors to claim the Blue Cloths. Look around you—the city is empty." A pair of glittering eyes appeared in the shadows of one of the houses, and Hyoga coughed politely.

"Not entirely empty, Sensei," he corrected his teacher. "Look." The pair of eyes came closer, and it turned out they belonged to a small child dressed in a heavy coat. The child asked a question in a tongue Milo didn't recognize, but it seemed the others did as Hyoga answered in the same language and Anya nodded. Camus asked a question of the child, who backed away, frightened by the Aquarius Saint's cold demeanor. Hyoga coaxed the girl back out again by kneeling in the snow and speaking in a gentle voice. They conversed for a moment, and the Cygnus Saint turned back to his friends.

"The girl speaks Russian. It turns out there are others living here, but not many—the harsh cold has driven them to seek greener places. Those who are here have lived here many years." The child pointed at Camus and said something about him; Anya and Hyoga smiled, while the turquoise-haired man simply made an exasperated noise. Milo raised an eyebrow.

"The girl says that Camus is a mean looking tin can," Anya translated, giggling a little. "She doesn't seem to know the word for 'Saint' or 'Cloth.'" The girl said something more, pointing to the center of town. "She says that Camus looks kind of like the man stuck inside the ice at the center of town. She wants to know how he got out."

"I do not have the patience to deal with insolent children," Camus muttered. Hyoga just grinned.

"You dealt with me and Issac. I don't remember us being perfect angels."

"True." Camus began walking towards the giant ice pillar; he seemed unusually withdrawn and cold. Milo knew something was wrong but didn't want to press the matter. Anya knew him well enough to know he was anxious about something. Athena had given them a single mission: to restore Bluegraad to the place of wisdom and learning it once was. However, the goddess had spoken separately to Camus, ostensibly giving him special instructions. He hadn't spoken of what was said.

Hyoga took the girl's hand as she led him towards another of the homes in the city, chattering in Russian, while Anya and Milo followed after Camus. It became harder and harder to advance forward as ice rapidly filled the streets, houses, and crevices. _D__è__gel certainly did a thorough job,_ Anya thought to herself. The pillar was massive and opaque; nothing could be seen inside it from where they walked. The silvery-haired woman wondered curiously what secrets the ice kept within its milky depths—and what sort of power it took to create such a massive behemoth.

Camus looked up at the sheer wall of ice in front of them; the three of them could walk no further towards the pillar. Camus felt his heart beating faster. _This is it…this is the moment that hangs in the balance. This is where both of us must succeed in our separate tasks…Athena grant that she come through unharmed._ Anya closed her eyes, wincing in pain. She knew what her portion of the mission entailed, and what it would cost her—she knew as well that Camus was deeply worried for her, even if his icy mask didn't show it.

"Would…would you two leave me alone for a moment, please?" she whispered. "Clear the area in a large radius from this spot." Camus nodded and immediately went to check the surrounds for innocent civilians; Milo sneezed once more before trudging off in the opposite direction from the other two. Anya took a deep breath, centering herself, and spoke a quick prayer to Athena that she would be able to fulfill her mission without harming anyone. "Seraphina…forgive me. I will try not to harm him." She felt the power building within her behind a mirrored dam, swirling and pushing…then she tore off the mirror's cover and let it loose.

An explosion rocked the area; all three of the other Saints whirled where they stood to stare at the central pillar in town with different reactions. Hyoga stared in horror, not knowing what was going on, only that Anya's massive cosmos was involved. Milo, who had seen this once before, turned his face away sadly, hoping she would come out of this alive. Camus closed his eyes tightly, trying to suppress the memories of her lifeless body in his arms the last time she had called upon her heritage. Water lapped suddenly at his feet, and he knew Anya had begun her miracle.

Anya felt the cosmos of Poseidon flood through her, and she struggled to maintain control. It was getting easier and easier every time to direct the flow, but she knew that the price to be paid had yet to come. Gold and blue swirled around her, and a trident formed of water appeared at her right hand; she grabbed it and touched the tines to the massive block of ice before her. The ice melted into water, which promptly began swirling around her in eddies and flowing into town. She slowly worked her way through the glacier, turning it into a liquid flood; somewhere near the central temple, she saw two figures suspended in ice: one a silvery-haired nude woman, and the other a green-haired man dressed in training clothes. Both had peaceful expressions, and the man was cupping the woman's face in both of his hands. Anya felt her soul ring as if a bell had been struck within her, and the power within her increased drastically. She felt herself losing control, and she lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Awakening**

Camus and Hyoga both felt Anya's cosmos die and raced towards the center of the city, now freed from its icy prison. Milo did the same, albeit more slowly; the cold was sapping his strength. As soon as the Aquarius Saint got within 200 feet of the three motionless bodies, he skidded to a halt, putting a hand to his head. His entire body and soul were vibrating in resonance, and he felt a trance overcome him. Hyoga was hot on his heels, calling to him.

"Camus-sensei! What's wrong?" The young man reached his teacher, grabbing his shoulder, but Camus didn't respond. Hyoga saw the older Saint's eyes glazed over as he began walking towards the larger of the bodies. The blonde knew something was wrong but didn't know how to snap his teacher out of whatever was controlling him, so he fled to Anya's side. He turned her over to find blood leaking out of her mouth and nose. "Oh gods…Anya…" He felt Milo kneel beside him. "Milo…what should we do?"

Milo threw off his cloak, adrenaline giving him extra focus and warmth. "I know something of the circulation system," he murmured to Hyoga, deepening his cosmos. A light golden glow surrounded him, then slowly moved to envelop Anya. "She's bleeding internally," the Scorpio Saint told his companion. "She has increased internal pressure somewhere."

"How do we stop it?"

"Two ways: I will use my Scarlet Needle to activate her meridians. You need to lower her body temperature." Hyoga didn't understand the first part, but he understood the second. He used Diamond Dust to lightly cool her body while Milo slimmed and sharpened his Scarlet Needles until they were hair-thin; the Scorpio Saint then directed all 14 into her body at precise points, activating the vital energies that would stem her excess blood flow.

Camus, on the other hand, knelt by Dègel's side. It was incredibly strange to see the green-haired man in the flesh; this had been his own soul's body 200 years ago. _His_ body. He placed a hand on the ancient Saint's chest and relaxed his muscles, acting as a conduit for the soul encased in the Aquarius Cloth. Camus suddenly glowed with electric blue light and spasmed once, catching himself from falling forward with his free hand; then, it was done. He shuddered. _I never want to do that again. That was a horrible, unnerving experience._ Dègel, however, did not awaken; Camus realized that the man's body had been encased in ice for over 200 years and likely needed to acclimate. The turquoise-haired Saint used his cosmos to slowly warm his incarnation, anxiety running through his veins like blood.

Milo had turned to Seraphina's body after taking care of Anya; the younger woman had stopped bleeding and was in no further danger; the violet-haired man took off his Saint's cape and covered Seraphina's body respectfully with it, then threw the cloak back around his shoulders. Hyoga, meanwhile, helped Anya to sit up and warmed her as best as he could. All three of the Saints turned to hear a groan of pain and stared at the scene before them: the two Aquarius Saints, side by side, easily mistaken for fraternal twin brothers. While Camus' hair was a deep turquoise, like the afternoon sky, Dègel's was a soft seafoam green, like streaming water. Their features, however, were near-identical.

As Dègel was helped to sit up by his reincarnation, he was greeted by a sight he never thought to see again—Seraphina in the flesh. His eyes widened for a moment. "Ser…a…phina?" he asked, voice raspy with disuse. The two Aquarius Saints even spoke with a similar voice and accent, though Dègel's voice was slightly higher and lighter in tone. Anya met his gaze with sad grey eyes, shaking her head negatively, and he blinked a moment. "No…Anya." She nodded in confirmation. "I had…forgotten…how…alike…you are," the green-haired Saint smiled gently. Camus felt his soul tingling in response to Dègel; it was a very odd feeling. "I…had hoped…that she would…return…to life…with me. Where…where is…Seraphina?"

"Her body rests over there, Dègel," Milo told him, pointing to the white cloth-covered form. The older man closed his eyes, brow furrowed in grief. Camus understood his pain; not only did they share a soul, but both had lost the one they loved. Fortunately for him, Anya had been able to return from the Underworld thanks to the grace of Athena.

"The burial will have to take place later. For now…we must get inside. Milo is catching cold, and Anya will shortly," Dègel instructed them, his voice growing ever stronger. "We should go." Camus helped him to his feet, supporting the other man with an arm under his shoulders; Hyoga did the same for Anya, while Milo followed behind. The green-haired Saint explored the various buildings that he vaguely remembered, quickly encountering a small home where an elderly couple lived. The woman began clucking reproachfully as the five people entered. She, of course, spoke Russian, and Milo sighed.

"One of these days, take me to a place where they speak Greek please," he muttered.

"I speak perfect Greek, young man," the woman glared at him, slightly annoyed. "I served in Sanctuary as a girl. I know who you are, more or less. I don't know this young man—" she indicated Dègel—" or this young lady, but I know you, Saint of Scorpio. And I know you two by reputation, Cygnus Hyoga and Aquarius Camus." The elderly man stirred a large pot over a warm fire, and Milo promptly went to sit near it. "I'll get more hearthstones. This one is getting a fever," the matron pointed to Anya, who was indeed showing increasing signs of illness. "Please, lay her down here near the fire." Hyoga did as he was instructed, and the woman began caring for the girl.

"It isn't much, but this we offer you in token of gratitude." The man spooned some of the warm soup into bowls for the Saints. "Thank you for freeing our city. We noticed the giant pillar of ice has disappeared. You must have had something to do with that."

"What has been going on in the city for the past year?" Dègel asked him.

"Well…most of the population has left; I'd say there's only about 50 of us still here. We've been living off whatever the land gives us, and trading with neighboring lands when we can. It's a little hard to trade though when most of what you have is all ice." He gave a barking laugh and continued. "We stay because the Pope commanded us to."

"The Pope?" Camus asked, a bit startled. He hid his reaction with easy practice, however.

"Yes, Pope Shion, the former Aries Saint. He told us that he had read the stars, and that he foresaw a return to Spring for Bluegaard. He spoke of three Gold Saints who would return the sun to us, and a gentle lady who would make things grow again." The man squinted at the party. "I only see two Gold Saints here…I guess you're not the ones, then." Dègel blinked but didn't say anything. "But we stay here in case of the Pope's prophecy. Some people left in spite of it, because it's been hard…really hard…but we are a strong people, we of Bluegaard. Even the Blue Warriors are dead and gone; there isn't anyone left to train the next generation."

A snore announced that Milo had fallen asleep; Hyoga found himself nodding off as well. "We only have one spare bed, I'm afraid," the woman told the remaining Saints.

"Hyoga can have it," Camus answered her.

"Hermann, please stock the fire so that this young man and his brother can sleep out here," she asked the ancient man, causing Camus and Dègel to blink and exchange confused glances. _Brother? _The old man began putting on a heavy coat and headed out towards the back of the home. "You can take off your armor, young Aquarius, if it makes you more comfortable."

"I am fine."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, cleaning up the bowls. As late night fell, both Dègel and Hyoga succumbed to slumber; Camus stayed up, watching Anya sleep fitfully. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, and periodically the turquoise-haired Saint took the cloth from her forehead to cool it down again with his cosmos.

"You don't have to worry about her; she will be fine—her fever will break in the morning," a voice said softly from the shadows. Camus looked up wearily to find the old woman standing before him with a blanket.

"Why would I be worried about her?" he responded coolly.

"Tch. It's in your eyes, boy. You love her," the woman answered matter-of-factly. Camus initially bristled with anger at being called 'boy', then froze at the rest of what she had said. For a split second, his icy mask dropped, and his eyes softened. Then the mask was back, and he shrugged.

"I care for my fellow Saints. That is all." The woman gave him a wise look and turned back to return to her bedroom, leaving the blanket next to Camus. _He is not as frozen as he wants people to think._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Leadership**

The next morning, the old man was first up. He silently walked into the living area, seeing the four Saints still asleep. The girl's fever appeared to have lifted during the night; the man suddenly blinked. Hermann knew something of cosmos—he had trained to be a Saint, but lost the fight for his Cloth—and noted the faint glow of a ward around her; it enveloped her like a thick blanket, warming and protecting her as she slept. He suspected the owner of the ward was the turquoise-haired Aquarius Saint sleeping wrapped in a blanket beside her, but he didn't think it wise to ask given the man's temperament. Like his wife, he could tell how Camus felt about Anya, and it was enough. _Don't worry, boy; your secret is safe with me._

_Wait a minute…four Saints? But there were five people that walked in last night? Ahhh, the green-haired brother is gone. He probably stepped outside for a little while._ Hermann quietly began gathering materials for breakfast; the slight noises woke Milo, who gave a start and opened his eyes abruptly.

"What? Oh." He retracted his crimson stinger, which had appeared out of long habit, and stretched. Glancing around, he noted that Hyoga was stirring; Camus and Anya were still deeply asleep. He saw the ward woven expertly around the girl and grinned; clearly, his best friend remained fiercely protective of his companion, and thus he protected her invisibly with his cosmos. "Where's Dègel?"

"I'm not sure where he is."

Hyoga stretched, yawning. He'd slept without his armor on and was well-rested. "So, what are we doing today?" he asked; Milo shushed him with a gesture.

"Keep quiet; Camus and Anya are still sleeping. They must have been up late." Hyoga subsided with embarrassment. "I think we need to examine the main temple today; we need to see what can be saved and what must be rebuilt." The Scorpio Saint looked critically at the plate of bland bread and fish in his hand. "I think we also need to see what can be done to improve the food supply for the town. No wonder everyone is so thin. Speaking of everyone…where are they?"

"They live in some of the homes nearby, or in the caves. They bring seal and bear meat to us occasionally, and grain with which we make bread to trade with the outside world. Not much of a community, I'm afraid." The four of them finished eating in near silence; afterwards, Hyoga looked over at his teacher and foster mother.

"Should we wake them?"

"No, let them sleep," Milo answered. It turned out no one needed to wake the sleeping pair; Camus awoke with a jolt, putting a hand to his chest. His soul was flooded with a deep mourning sadness, and he knew Dègel was grieving for Seraphina in a private place. His eyes focused slowly, and he noted the presence of the others. He didn't ask after Dègel. Wordlessly, the old man handed him a plate that he'd been keeping warm; Camus nodded his thanks and began to eat, periodically glancing over at Anya. The woman came over to check on the girl, feeling her forehead and her pulse. She looked knowingly at Camus and stood up to get something. "She will be fine, but she is dehydrated; at least in this place we have plenty of water." The woman came back bearing a cup full of clear water. She gently woke Anya and helped the girl to sit up so that she could drink; thirstily she did so, draining the cup. "How do you feel?"

"Better, I think…hungry, mostly." The woman gave her a share of what food was left from breakfast, and a soft knock at the door announced Dègel's presence. Sure enough, the former Aquarius Saint stepped through the doorway, making sure to clean his boots thoroughly before coming inside.

_Is it done?_ Camus asked him wordlessly. Dègel nodded as their brilliant eyes met.

_I have said my farewells; I gave Seraphina what I could. Now…now I will keep my promise to Unity and Seraphina and watch over Bluegaard._ He looked over at Anya. "How is she?" he asked aloud.

"Better," the old woman answered him. "She is not completely healed yet, but she is well on her way."

"I can answer for myself; I'm not an invalid," Anya muttered, eating slowly so as not to upset her stomach. She glanced over to the corner to make sure her Cloth still sat in its object form; it did, along with the Cygnus Cloth. Milo and Camus had slept in their Gold Cloths. After the Saints all finished eating and re-armoring themselves, the five thanked their hosts and headed for the central temple of the city. Dègel led, as he knew Bluegaard better than the others. Now that Anya was able to see him up close, she realized that his eyes were not in fact the same color as Camus'; rather, they were a beautiful, exotic shade of lilac that reminded her of amethyst gems. Dègel did, however, have the same depthless gaze in his eyes as Camus did. In a way, it was unnerving.

As they passed through the center of the city where the ice pillar had rested for so long, four of the Saints noticed something new in the plaza that hadn't been there before: a 20-foot tall ice statue of an angel, kneeling as if in prayer with hands clasped together. It was beautiful and thoughtful; no inscription marred its surface. Camus nodded in approval; he could easily see Dègel's cosmos woven throughout its form.

_A fitting tribute. You did well,_ he thought. Dègel met his gaze wordlessly and smiled.

_I did not expect to hear that from you of all people. Thank you._

They were surprised upon their arrival at the central temple—the residents of the area had all gathered on the steps of the temple. Murmurs ran through the crowd of "Saints! Why have Saints come here?" to "Athena has sent her Gold Saints to save us! Praise Athena!"

"Who leads?" Dègel asked them. "Who leads here now that Garcia is gone?"

"Garcia?" a middle-aged man scratched his head. "If you are speaking of Lord Garcia, he's been dead for over 200 years. "I'm Tashar… I'm the closest thing to a leader the city has, I guess." He held out a hand to Dègel, who clasped his forearm in the manner of warriors instead of merely shaking his hand. Tashar blinked at the other man's strength and looked more closely at him. "You look just like the young lord Dègel who was trapped in the center of the city 200 years ago. Are you related to him maybe? Great-grandson?" The ancient Aquarius Saint sighed; might as well expose himself now.

"I am Dègel," he said quietly. "I was freed from the ice by Lady Anya of the Gyrfalcon constellation." He indicated Anya, who stood silently by; she blushed and turned her gaze down shyly when she was introduced. It was a credit to Tashar that he didn't laugh outright at Dègel's claim; rather, he took the green-haired man seriously but wanted proof. "If you're Dègel, then you're a Gold Saint. I don't suppose you can prove that, can you?"

"I can." He was standing behind Tashar before the other man could blink, having used his speed of light to move quicker than the eye could follow. The older man was startled violently.

"He's telling the truth, Tashar," Hermann announced, walking slowly up the steps to them. "I can see his cosmos. It's the power of a Gold Saint." Dègel blinked in surprise.

"You can read cosmos? You could have mentioned that before."

"There wasn't need. We haven't seen the Saints of Athena here in a long time. It's been decades since I trained for the Cloth myself." Still shaken, Tashar bowed slightly to the ancient Saint.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, lord Dègel," he said formally. "Welcome, to the rest of you, to the land of Bluegaard. Please introduce yourselves to us."

"I'm Cygnus Hyoga!" Hyoga spoke energetically.

"Scorpio Milo," Milo grinned.

"Aquarius Camus." Expressionless as usual.

"Gyrfalcon Anya." She met their gazes equally, imperially, as though a queen in her own land. In a sense, she was.

"It is unusual to see a female Saint; more unusual that she could be the twin sister to lady Seraphina. You are a lovely sight, lady Anya," Tashar bowed low to her. "Bluegaard is honored to have you. We are at the Saints' disposal."

"I am honored by your motion, but it can wait until later. For now…what of the temple? Is it still inhabitable?"

"We're not sure…it's been covered in ice all this time. Maybe we should all have a look."

Hermann, meanwhile, blinked in recognition. _There ARE three Gold Saints here; Lord Dègel no longer bears the Aquarius Cloth, but he is still a Gold-level Saint. Could…could they be the ones Lord Shion told us of? Could this lady be the one to bring our city back to life?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Temple**

"It's rather dark, I see," Tashar muttered. "We need light." Torches were carefully passed around, soaked in fat, and lit with flint and stone. The outer chambers of the temple were covered in a layer of water and ice; the rugs and furniture would definitely have to be replaced, but the artwork and sculptures survived unharmed.

"Anya…look up." The Gyrfalcon Saint followed Dègel's instruction and looked up, aiming her torch towards the ceiling—and gasped. Painted on the ceiling of the temple was a full night sky with all 88 constellations represented…and then some. It was breathtaking. Dègel smiled; he thought she might like that. The Saints split off separately with the townfolk, each taking a different wing of the massive temple. Dègel immediately headed for the library; Milo headed down a corridor with weapons that turned out to lead into the Hall of the Fallen Warriors. Hyoga went to the personal wing where the bedrooms and meeting areas were located. Camus checked the culture and worship gallery, and Anya found something no one expected: a room sealed with an arcane talisman. On the talisman, in Greek, was the name 'Boreas.' The girl asked the citizens about it.

"We don't know anything about this, Lady Anya," a young woman told her. "This wasn't here the last time anyone was in this temple. If it was, we'd all know about it—we're a pretty careful bunch." Anya opted to leave the room alone; it was enough to know it was there—she needed to consult with Dègel and Camus about it.

All five groups met back in the main area of the temple after about a half hour of exploration. "The temple seems mostly intact," Milo told the others. "There is some water damage, but nothing that can't be repaired. Some of the statues in the Hall of the Fallen Warriors are rusted, though."

"Likewise with the cultural hall. Some of the statues there are rusted, but everything else appears to have survived," Camus added.

"The library is thankfully intact; the doors to the chamber were tightly secured," Dègel reported.

"The bedrooms and meeting areas were fine; I didn't find anything of interest," Hyoga told them.

"I found something odd," Anya spoke, furrowing her brow. "A room with a seal on it that said 'Boreas.' I didn't know what to make of it."

"We should check it out," Dègel told her. "I do not particularly feel comfortable having unknowns at my back." The five Saints asked the townspeople to start a pile outside the temple of things that could not be saved, took two torches, and went down the hallway Anya indicated. At the end of the hallway was a great doorway with no handles or latches to speak of; in the center was the indicated talisman.

"I am not familiar with anyone named Boreas," Dègel said, glancing over at Camus and Milo questioningly.

"No one by that name has been heard of since you were trapped," the current Aquarius confirmed. Milo nodded. "If this is a sealing talisman, though, it is likely that 'Boreas' is the name of a deity."

Idly, the Scorpio Saint poked a finger at it, bored of the academic speculation.

"Wait, Milo, don't—" Camus tried to stop him, but he wasn't fast enough. The talisman disintegrated in a flash of golden light, and the door silently swung open. Dègel looked curiously inside but didn't pass the threshold of the doorway.

"I guess it took the power of a Gold Saint to break it," Hyoga said. Not for the first time, he wished he was as powerful as his sensei. Milo shrugged and went inside; his constellation usually encouraged him to take action rather than sit around and talk things through—or think things through, for that matter. When no cry of surprise or pain was heard, the other four followed him in.

Inside was a circular chamber with a single skylight shining from above; the chamber had nearly empty shelves with the exception of one row of ancient books. The two Aquarius Saints immediately went to check the contents of those while Milo, Anya, and Hyoga marveled at the other obvious things in the room: a set of eight Cloths on pedestals around the edges of the chamber. Each one had a title scribed on a plaque sitting in front of it: five of the Cloths were silver with blue overtones and read Bear, Ox, Wolverine, Walrus, Fox. The other three Cloths were made of what appeared to be platinum and read Wisdom, Knowledge, Justice.

"The three platinum Cloths apparently belong to the Keepers," Camus informed his incarnation solemnly. "According to this text, they choose their bearers much like our own Cloths."

"These are the Cloths of the Blue Warriors," Dègel spoke, indicating the bluish armors. "I've seen them many times while studying in Bluegaard. I have never, however, heard of the Keepers. Lord Garcia never mentioned anything about them." He went over to stand in front of the Wisdom Cloth and gently touched it with a finger; the Cloth began to glow with silvery light, and broke apart—Dègel only had a split second to gasp before the armor descended upon him, clothing him with its glittering pieces. Camus looked up from the book he was paging through, and his eyes widened in shock.

"What in the name of Athena just happened?"

"I am…not entirely sure," the green-haired man answered hesitantly, checking himself over. "I merely touched the Cloth, which seemed to be enough to activate it." Suddenly, he jerked upward with a choked gasp, and his companions stared in shock as Dégel's lilac eyes began to glow with an inner violet light.

"Dègel!" Hyoga cried, moving forward, but Camus held him back with an outstretched arm. "Master, he-!"

"Believe me, I want to help him," Camus answered grimly, watching as Dègel stood before them as if entranced. "But if you touch him, you could be caught by whatever is gripping him."

"Dègel?" Anya called questioningly, peering into the green-haired man's eyes, but he seemed to ignore her entirely.

"Camus, we have to do something," Milo growled. "We can't leave him this way." Before Camus could stop him, the Scorpio Saint lunged forward and caught Dègel roughly by the shoulder. "Hey! Dègel!" he began, but as soon as his hand came in contact with the other man, the eerie light in Dègel's eyes disappeared; instantly, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

"Milo!" Camus spoke softly, but sharply. "Think before you act next time! Twice now you have acted prematurely without a care for the consequences. We cannot afford a third time." Milo looked at him, seeing his friend's sapphire eyes snapping with quiet fury, then cast an ashamed gaze towards the ground.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Now what?" Anya murmured, kneeling next to Dègel but not touching him. "We can't just leave him here, and the townsfolk will ask questions if we carry him out." Suddenly, a muffled groan solved their problem as Dègel slowly regained consciousness. After a moment, his eyes flickered open, and Camus silently sighed in relief as he noted their normal lilac hue. The green-haired Saint fixed his gaze on Camus, confused.

"What…how did I end up on the floor?" he asked his reincarnation, furrowing his brow.

"You don't remember?"

"The last thing I remember…is the Cloth arming me….very strange." He flexed his fingers gently. "I see that the Cloth remains on me."

"Can you stand?" The turquoise-haired Aquarius asked him. Dègel nodded.

"The headache will pass. We must return to the others." Milo helped him to his feet, allowing the older man to lean on him for support. "Wait," Dègel motioned when they started to move. He closed his eyes, causing the others to worry whether or not he would pass out again, but after a few seconds he glowed with a familiar light; the Cloth disengaged from him, replacing itself in object form on its pedestal. "It would not be wise for the others to see the Cloth. I believe this room was sealed for a reason," he explained. Camus nodded and led the way out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Foreboding**

The five Saints filed out of the hidden chamber; Camus turned around, worried about how they would seal the room behind them—he didn't want the precious artifacts stolen or vandalized—but Dègel solved that problem for him by touching the door. The large object sealed with a quick flash of silver light and remained shut against casual probing, even by Milo.

"I guess one of the Keeper abilities is to seal things away," he said, looking curiously at his hands. "I still have much to learn."

The collected people were still gradually emptying out the temple when the five emerged. "What happened?" Tashar asked them. "What was in the sealed room?"

"Artifacts. Ancient artifacts," Anya answered him.

"Boring pieces of junk, if you ask me," Milo muttered. Hyoga elbowed him to silence.

"Milo—as a combat specialist, you might be able to help some of these people hunt food," Dègel prompted him. Hermann nodded and stepped forward.

"Please allow me to lead you to the hunting grounds, Scorpio Milo," he said formally. Four other men joined him; two of them carried long spear-like weapons with hooks on the end. Milo grinned. _Finally, something I can enjoy. I hate all this bookish exploration. Besides; maybe this means something other than fish and bread. _

"Hyoga, you are welcome to join Milo," Camus prompted as the Cygnus Saint looked almost longingly at the departing blue-haired man. The Aquarius Saint knew that Hyoga wasn't one for books either, pupil though he had been. The turquoise-haired Saint shook his head; the young blonde hadn't always been that way, but hanging around Seiya and Ikki had whetted his appetite for knowledge and turned him towards more action-oriented pursuits. Hyoga smiled and ran after the hunting party. The three remaining Ice Saints glanced at each other.

"Have any of you worked in the archives downstairs?" Dègel queried the remaining townspeople. Most of them shook their heads.

"We haven't touched the books of lore since the days of Garcia. Most of us have been focused on survival," one of the middle-aged women answered. The green-haired Saint gave a mental sigh. _Of course. It could not possibly have been that easy._

"Anya…could you go with the remaining citizens and take inventory of what they have as far as blankets, basic medical supplies, and fuel? Camus and I are going to investigate the archives." He looked at her, and she heard his voice in her mind. _We need a couple of hours without being disturbed. I have a bad feeling about this Boreas, but I do not want to panic the townfolk by speculating needlessly. Camus and I will research what we can, as fast as we can. _

_Will you be okay? You fainted earlier…_

_I will be fine. The headache is fading, and I do not seem to have suffered any lasting damage._

Anya nodded and allowed the elderly woman that had been helping them earlier—her name was Meralda, she told Anya—to lead her around to the various living spaces and hidden caches.

Meanwhile, the two Aquarius Saints ventured down into the library archives to see what information they could find on this 'Boreas'. Neither one of them had a clue where such data would be kept, so each took a section of the library and began paging through books. The two Saints had completely different reactions; Dègel felt nostalgia for the days when he studied with Unity in these same archives while Camus felt awe and wonder for the wealth of information gathered here. Both, however, had a bad feeling about what they would find concerning Boreas. It was chance that Dègel found what they needed first.

"Camus," he summoned quietly. The turquoise-haired Saint came to read over his shoulder. _"…and Poseidon sealed away the god Boreas, lord of the North Winds, out of fear that Boreas would freeze his domain and take away his power. Boreas and Poseidon have ever had an antagonistic relationship; his Anemoi have long fought the Blue Warriors for dominance. It was said that after the emergence of Lord Poseidon in the body of Seraphina of Bluegaard—_" Dègel paused, then continued after a moment—"_Boreas sent his Anemoi to kill the remaining Blue Warriors and seal their Cloths to prevent them from seeking Poseidon's or Athena's aid. Once the Blue Warriors were dead and Poseidon slept in the depths once more, the lord of the North Winds claimed the land of Bluegaard for his own, sending the fields into a deep freeze as revenge for Poseidon's attempt to destroy the world with a massive flood. Oddly, Athena did not interfere with this activity; it was said that she was fighting a Holy War against Hades at the time and could not spare any more Saints to come to the aid of Bluegaard after the deaths of Scorpio Kardia and Aquarius Dègel._" Camus looked thoughtful.

"Does it say who these Anemoi are? They sound like the equivalent of Saints." Dègel quickly read ahead, leafing through a few pages before he found what he sought.

"The Anemoi of Boreas are referred to as Zethes, Calais, Lycurgus, and Khione [goddess of snow]. They all ride horses sacred to Boreas." He handed the book over to Camus. "There are sketches here of their appearance. All of them have white or grey hair, I would guess; the drawings are in charcoal." Camus took the book and studied the sketches carefully.

"I suppose this explains why Bluegraad has been plunged into a seemingly eternal winter," he told Dègel wryly. "Boreas has been holding the land prisoner to his whims and his vengeance."

"So…we would need to either bargain for his withdrawal, or force it," the older Saint agreed. "Though somehow I think he will be harder to bargain with than Poseidon, especially given that we are Saints of Athena. Poseidon, at least, was a neutral party. Boreas seems to be actively against Athena."

"We had best share this information with Hyoga, Milo, and Anya when they return," Camus said. "If they happen to run into any of these Anemoi while they are out, it could mean serious trouble."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Unexpected**

Milo and Hyoga were enjoying themselves immensely; the hunt was on, and the two Saints appreciated the skill it took to find game and then take it down—but they didn't appreciate the act of killing itself. That was more of a necessity than a choice sometimes for Saints. Hermann and Tashar guided the group to a small hidden alcove near a lake; in a whisper, he told the others that this area was frequented by animals who came to drink, and that here was the best place to catch food. Ideally, they would catch a bear tonight, as it provided the most meat along with its pelt and fat. That perked Milo up—something other than fish!

"I don't think you'll be catching anything today, other than perhaps your deaths if you stay," a deep voice told them. "This place is sacred to Boreas; it is where his beloved horses come to drink. Leave now, and I shall not punish you." The men of Bluegaard looked a bit frightened but, true to their blood, they stayed put. Milo and Hyoga looked like wolves on the prowl, swinging their heads around as they strove to sense the newcomer. Surprisingly, the faint glow of cosmos surrounded Hermann, but he didn't appear conscious of it.

"Oh? You won't leave? Perhaps I should give you a taste of what punishment awaits you should you not change your mind," the voice said again, and a white-cloaked figure practically emerged from the very air around them, dismounting off of a pure white horse. His hair was spiky and silver, matching his piercing eyes. He was slender but bore himself as if he were a god; his silver Cloth was ornately embossed with decorative motifs that evoked the wind and snow. The white cloak was voluminous, covering nearly his entire body; it slid over his raised arm, and the newcomer said two words:

"Howling Blast."

A vortex of bitingly cold air sprang from his outstretched fingers to strike the party; while the Saints were protected by their Cloths, the men of Bluegaard were not—most of them suffered cuts and bruises from being flung dozens of feet by the wind. They landed in heaps behind Milo and Hyoga, who both ignited their cosmos at the same time. "I would know the name of my enemy before I take them down," Milo said menacingly, the crimson stinger of the scorpion appearing on his forefinger.

"I am called Zethes," the man snarled, showing teeth. "You would do well to memorize it, Saints of the enemy! Why did Athena send you here if not to meddle in the affairs of Lord Boreas?"

"What affairs?" Hyoga asked. "We know nothing of this Lord Boreas. We are here at the orders of Lady Athena."

"Your education in history and culture is severely lacking," Zethes sniffed. "And they call us barbarians…"

"Shut up with the lecture," Milo snarled, launching a Scarlet Needle at the man. He dodged nimbly; holes appeared in his cloak where the needles passed through it.

"So, you possess the sting of the scorpion. You must be Scorpio Milo. You see, we in the North take pride in educating ourselves about our enemies. We know the names and constellations of all 88 of Athena's Saints. You, with the bird, are likely Cygnus Hyoga. I will be honored to send you into the arms of Hades!"

"Like hell you will. Diamond Dust!" Hyoga yelled, sending a stream of ice and snow at Zethes. The silver-haired man laughed merrily.

"You think to attack me with ice and snow in my own element? How foolish. You do not know how to properly wield Absolute Zero. You need a few more lessons."

"Grand Kol'tso." A quiet voice cut through the screaming wind, and a set of icy rings sprang up around the Anemoi, entrapping him. He growled.

"You! You are supposed to be dead!"

"If you wish a demonstration of Absolute Zero, I will educate you," the frosty voice of Dègel responded. The green-haired Saint was striding towards them, armored in his Keeper Cloth, cosmos flaring at his fingertips. "Zethes, I assume."

"Aquarius Dègel," the other acknowledged defiantly. "But you are not wearing the Aquarius Cloth; you are no longer the Gold Saint of Aquarius. You are supposed to be dead, locked into a coffin of your own making for eternity! How is it you have broken free?"

"Because it is my destiny. Now go, and report to Boreas what you have seen. I give you the gift of your life. Do not spurn it." He released his technique, and Zethes looked upon Dègel with both hatred and respect. Cloak swirling around him, the Anemoi faded back into the wind, and hoofbeats could be heard moving away into the distance. Even he knew that fighting against three Saints—two of them Gold—was folly.

"Do not mess with him," Dègel softly instructed the others. "Come. I will tell you what we know."

Meanwhile, Anya was with several of the other women and a couple of men inspecting their supply caches; sadly, their supplies of basics other than furs, skins, and food were laughably low. It appeared that trade had recently soured between Bluegaard and the outside world. They had enough to exist on, but not enough to thrive or grow as a village. That would need to change. First, though, they needed to get rid of all this snow so that plants could flourish once more.

"We have some seeds, my lady, but they have slept long in the cold. It's doubtful if they will rise again." A brown-skinned man handed her a small sack. Anya smiled.

"I believe they still have life in them. As long as there is life in us, these will bloom fruitfully." She cleared off a patch of snow, exposing the wet earth underneath. She poked a couple of holes in the ground; the nearby people turned to watch with interest what she was doing. Into each hole the Gyrfalcon Saint dropped a couple of seeds; she covered them back up and placed her palms flat on the ground. A golden glow slowly spread around her, percolating into the ground and soaking the seeds with cosmos. Before long, small green shoots shyly poked their heads up to greet the sky, and the onlookers gasped.

"You are the one in the prophecy! You will bring Spring again to Bluegaard!" they cheered. A soft voice cut through the celebration.

"That will not be permitted by Lord Boreas," the voice spoke. It was clearly female. Snow began to swirl around the townspeople, becoming so thick it was hard to see. Out of the sudden blizzard stepped a pure white horse, bearing a white-haired maiden with silver eyes. Her smile was cold but not harsh. "He has claimed these lands for his own, and while that claim lasts, winter will reign supreme over Bluegaard." Anya stood protectively in front of the townsfolk, cosmos still flaring around her.

"These lands belong to the people of Bluegaard. Who are you to say otherwise?" The woman turned icy eyes on the young Saint, regarding her carefully.

"Khione, goddess of snow and ice." She was dressed completely in white, giving the impression of being clothed in the very snow that swirled around her. "I am the daughter of Lord Boreas. He has sent me to investigate the interlopers of Bluegaard."

"Interlopers? Hardly. I am here—"

"You are here because of Athena." Khione sniffed disdainfully. "I know who you are. You are doubly of the enemy, because you carry the stench of Poseidon Sea-Lord about you as well as the Cloth of a Saint of Athena." Anya looked confused.

"Enemy? I have never heard of this Lord Boreas. How could I be an enemy?"

"Your ignorance is charming, but it will not save you. I am sorry, but I must take you to Lord Boreas for sentencing." She seemed genuinely apologetic for having to fight, but cold determination shone from her eyes. She drew a wand from her sleeve, and Anya took a defensive stance.

"Blinding Vortex." The snow became a sheet, blinding everyone there. Screaming, the townsfolk began to run, scattering in all directions towards safety. Anya immediately closed her useless eyes, feeling for the Anemoi with her Seventh Sense. She could feel nothing, however. _Where is she?_

_Behind you. _"Frozen Statue." Anya felt something touch her back, and all of her muscles instantly froze, paralyzing her. Raising her cosmos didn't break the invisible chains binding her, and her eyes were now stuck closed, leaving her unable to see what was going on with the townsfolk. She heard the hoofbeats of an approaching horse, and the silver-haired Saint knew that she was about to be loaded on that horse as a prisoner. She began to despair, and in that despair, temptation beckoned. The sweet power of Poseidon lay just behind the covered mirror in her mind, the cosmos of a God, but Anya rejected the temptation with difficulty. She hated tapping her heritage; it made her lose all control and memory of what she did, and she had promised herself she would only call upon it at greatest need.

"You will not take her anywhere," a cold voice interjected from behind Anya. She could have smiled in relief as she recognized the arctic tones of Camus. "Leave in peace, Khione. Lord Boreas has no claim over Anya, or over Bluegaard." He approached to stand about 20 ft from the white-haired goddess and watched her with piercing sapphire eyes. Khione smiled a bit wickedly.

"Ahh, the famous Aquarius. You are the only Saint that has the grudging respect of Lord Boreas because of your mastery of ice and snow. You are more handsome than I thought." His expression did not change. "However, my business is not with you. My business is with the girl."

"Anya is not your domain. If Lord Boreas wants to speak with her, he can come here himself."

"Blasphemy!" the goddess snarled, pointing her wand at him. "Blinding Vortex!" The snow swirled around him in a sheet of flakes, but he stood calmly, watching her. Slowly, a golden light wrapped him in a warm glow, and the snow reversed its path.

"Leave," Camus repeated more strongly. He raised a hand, and cosmos began to build around it. Khione gave an exasperated growl and whistled; the white horse came trotting over. The goddess mounted and glanced at Camus.

"This isn't finished. I will bring her to Lord Boreas, and I will make you bow at my feet." She turned and faded into the blizzard. The townspeople slowly peered out from behind various houses and trees as the Aquarius Saint approached Anya. She felt him nearby but still couldn't move a muscle except to breathe. He carefully examined the cosmos binding her; it was a technique he might have used, infusing the enemy's very body with cosmos and then slowing down the movement of the atoms within. It was a much more lasting technique than Aurora Execution, and he memorized it for future study. Then, he reversed the technique, snapping the bonds paralyzing Anya. She opened her eyes, wincing against the sudden onslaught of light. Camus bent to help the others stand.

"We need to go somewhere we can discuss this latest problem," he instructed Anya. "These people need to know what we found out about Boreas and the Anemoi."


End file.
